


H is for Helpless

by CobaltStargazer



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dominance, F/M, Fingering, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 03:38:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1883898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobaltStargazer/pseuds/CobaltStargazer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sexy times at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	H is for Helpless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilPhatFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilPhatFox/gifts).



> This is yet another installment in Elle and Spencer's adventures. Takes place after 'Dinner at Eight'.

Elle knew she was in trouble when Spencer caught her coming out of the shower.

She'd been waiting for him to pounce on her since they'd gotten back from dinner, had given him a few come-hither looks as bait, but he'd feigned obliviousness and kept his nose in a book. She knew him well enough by now to know how his mind worked, that that barely-there kiss was just a hint of what she was going to get, so she'd backed off to a safe distance and waited him out.

She was standing in front of the mirror combing her hair out when the door opened behind her. She was still naked, her folded sleepwear on top of the toilet tank. He was wearing his jeans and nothing else. They made eye contact in the reflective surface of the glass. His gaze was like a physical touch, heated from within. Her mouth was dry, but she continued to comb her hair. 

Spencer wanted to tell her she was gorgeous, a queen, a goddess, but if he spoke right then it would break his self-control. He stepped up behind her, and the denim of his jeans rubbed against her bare flesh. His hands remained at his sides. When she shifted backwards a fraction, he took a quarter-step away. Looking down, he saw her buttocks tense, then relax.

"What are you doing?" He only heard the quaver in her voice because he was _really_ listening for it.

"I'm having my way with you."

Elle finished combing her hair, and she looked at her pajamas out of the corner of her eye. If she put them on, he'd only strip her bare again when he was ready to do it. She'd never felt more naked in her life, and his body heat was radiating towards her like a furnace. He was the only lover she'd ever had who could dominate her without even touching her.

He stepped forward again, and he felt her resist the urge to lean back. His palms skimmed down her sides, barely making contact, and his breath fanned over her shoulders when he leaned down. Her hair smelled clean and sweet, still damp from the shower. One hand lifted the heavy mass away from her skin, exposing her vertebra, and one fingertip counted them in silence as he trailed it up the center of her back. The _faintest_ touch.

She shouldn't have made that crack about taking him when she wanted him. Now he was going to make her pay for it. The sweetest punishment imaginable. Elle licked her lips, trying to wet them, but her mouth was too dry. There was a plastic cup next to the sink, and she filled it under the tap and drained it. _Touch me. A hand, a finger, your mouth._ She closed her eyes, felt the silence grow heavy.

"Turn around."

Spencer stepped away to give her room, and when she complied he let his eyes wander over her naked body. Someone else might have considered the scar a blemish that ruined her beauty, but for him it had become a symbol of her strength and valor. Maybe that was why he wasn't afraid to be this way with her. His fear was washed away by his awe of her, and because he was awed, he could touch her as he pleased. It was a conundrum even _his_ brain couldn't unravel.

His left hand moved, and her stomach muscles jumped when his fingertips came within a hair's breadth of making contact. Then they dipped lower, and she felt him brush the dark thatch at the entrance of her mound. He was watching her face. Her thighs parted a notch, widening her stance. She wasn't ashamed of herself over it. Spencer had earned the right to see her not just without clothes but _emotionally_ naked. It was the reason whatever this was worked, that they saw each other's terror and didn't snicker or scoff.

"Let's go into the bedroom. I want to taste you."

Elle trailed behind Spencer as he walked down the hall. There was a draft coming in from somewhere, and her nipples pebbled. She was wet again, and it wasn't from the shower. The bedroom was dark, and he turned on one dim lamp. The mattress sagged as he sat on the edge of it. She approached, made to climb onto the bed, and he shook his head.

"No. Stand here." He pointed to the spot in front of him, and she swallowed before coming to stand where he'd told her. Her breathing was a little shallow, and she was grateful for the dimness because a flush had spread down her face before staining her neck and chest pink. He studied her face, the ghost of a smile hovering around the corners of that wonderful mouth.

Elle jumped when he leaned forward, and warm breath fanned over her bare breasts. His hand came up, but he didn't quite touch her. It was the _suggestion_ of a touch, and he was so close to doing it that she felt the warmth of his palm. _No pain, only pleasure. I will never hurt you._

The tip of his tongue brushed her hardened nipple, and the sudden dampness there made the dark peak stiffen further. She smelled like shower gel and shampoo, and something underneath that that was sharp and uniquely her. Spencer wanted to devour her, to put her on her back and feast on her until she screamed for mercy, but he knew from experience that he could make her scream just as loud by being delicate with her.

He tongued the other nipple, and she stifled the moan, but it vibrated in her chest. That earned her the reward of a feathery kiss on the underside of her breast. Her hands were fisted at her sides to keep them from threading into his hair. If she tried to rush him, he'd prolong it even more.

"Spencer."

"Hmm?"

His mouth was fluttering over her quivering stomach muscles, but it was more air than kisses. Her breath hitched when his tongue dipped into her navel for a micro-second. She was imagining it on her clit, doing that same gentle flicking. 

"Please."

That was the magic word, and Spencer retreated to look up at Elle's face. Her features were taut, and he reached behind him and patted the center of the bed. "Come on, then," he said, and she moved to join him. He resisted the urge to nip her on the ass before she situated herself. She was so lovely, so vulnerable, that his throat constricted. He crawled fully onto the bed with her. He kissed her mouth, that same fleeting touch he'd given her at the restaurant, and she whined when he took the slight pressure away. He smiled, but kindly.

"Be patient."

Still wearing his jeans, Spencer started to work his way down Elle's body, pausing frequently to softly kiss her warm flesh. Mapping her body with his mouth and his fingers. She was trying not to squirm. She'd never been so thoroughly worshiped, or so gently. His touch was almost reverential. 

He finally reached the apex between her legs, and he continued to tease her relentlessly. He sucked very lightly on the inside of her thigh, half an inch away from her cunt, and her hands opened and closed as she forced herself not to grab at him. Whispered pleas reached his ears, and he lifted his face momentarily, then shifted the position of his lips.

That first taste of her made him groan, and she nearly sobbed her relief. It wasn't over yet, though. He lapped at her almost timidly, and though she begged him to speed up, he kept up the exquisite torture with careful licks. He dipped his tongue between her folds for a deeper taste, but his mouth was fluttering rather than lingering. Above him, Elle was swearing in a whisper, punctuating the words with gasps. Spencer savored what he was doing, knowing he was unraveling her one slow lick at the time. Inside his jeans. his cock was painfully hard.

"Please." Elle's hips rolled as she tried to get that magical tongue _exactly_ where she needed it, and if he didn't stop he was going to kill her. She was going to die right here in his bed, the most wonderfully excruciating way to go. Her clit ached for attention. "Please, Spencer...my...my clit..."

He finally took pity on her, and his lips shifted yet again as he slid two fingers into her wetness. He sucked on the hard little bud as he began to pump in and out of her, and his tongue bathed the bundle of nerves in between pulls with his lips. She tasted like the sweetest nectar on earth.

Elle came with a choked scream of release, and Spencer's bedroom window rattled. He slipped a third finger into her, curved his digits upwards, and she spasmed again. And then again wen he swiped deliberately at her clit. She was blind with pleasure, begging him to stop, and she blacked out momentarily when the aftershocks crashed over her head like a wave.

He abandoned his post at last, worked is way back up. She was just coming to, and his expression was concerned when he looked at her. 

"No more. Please no more."

"Shh. Hey, it's all right." He was touching her more fully now, hands stroking her trembling frame. The sheet beneath her was damp with sweat. Her kissed her neck and her face, then her mouth. She tasted herself on his lips. His chin glistened with her juices. When he offered her his fingers, she cleaned them tiredly. She was wonderfully exhausted, and the gentle care he took with her in the aftermath of his relentlessness had her throat impossibly tight. When she felt the bulge in his jeans against her hip, one hand brushed against it. His kisses faltered, and e gasped into her mouth when she managed to cup him. Her eyes were dark with satisfaction, but the way he looked at her when she began to stroke his hard-on through denim turned her on at least a little.

"Do you want to fuck me, Spencer?" _Fondle. Rub, Stroke._

His eyes were closed, and they slitted open when she asked the question. "I don't want to hurt you," he said uncertainly. "I'm sure you're wrung out."

Ell's hand twisted between his legs, and he moaned. "Answer the question," she said patiently. "If you want to, it's okay. I can't let you go untended to just because I got mine first. Now, do you want to fuck me?"

"I want to make love to you."

She paused, and he dared look her in the eye. He'd never said that before. Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes, and she looked away towards the wall so he wouldn't see. He graciously went along with that.

When she'd composed herself, she looked back at him, and she was as helpless in the face of his vulnerability as he was in the face of her boldness. She kissed his mouth, then whispered, "Get a condom. Then make love to me."

Spencer readied himself, shucking out of his jeans and finding a condom in the nightstand drawer. His erect cock slapped against his lower belly impatiently, then waved in mid-air. Elle smiled, brushed it with her fingertips. Once he'd rolled the rubber on, he repositioned himself above her. 

"If it's too much, let me know, and I'll stop. I can masturbate and finish. An orgasm isn't so important to me that I want to hurt you."

She stroked his face. "You have my word, I'll tell you if there's a problem."

He slipped into her carefully, then controlled the urge to thrust. She was kissing his jawline. When he finally started to move he set a slow pace. Being delicate with her again. She moved underneath him, a half-step slower, but it _did_ feel good. In his own way, Spencer was still dominating her, but for him, she didn't mind that. He could have her any way he wanted her, because she loved him.

It didn't take him long to finish because he'd been so ready, and she didn't come, but they lay together in the aftermath and felt utterly satisfied. If this wasn't love, then it was close enough to the truth for the lie not to matter. 

And that was why it worked.


End file.
